The cultivation world reveres the Sword Venerable Xie Jianbai as a god, offering devotion and gratitude through generations, yet they remain unaware that the great sword master, who they see as the protector of the world, secretly despises this realm at his core.
Xie Jianbai grew up within the cultivation world, witnessing its darkness and filth for millennia.
When it comes to cruelty, there are the demon cultivators who follow the path of evil, the untamable beasts, but humans, though capable of evil, never embrace it fully; they cloak their misdeeds in hypocrisy, adorning their malicious acts with the guise of righteousness.
He had seen countless hypocritical cultivators driven solely by self-interest, abandoning every moral boundary.
The world was overflowing with false heroes; even the most loyal and unyielding souls were merely fortunate enough not to be struck at their core. In the face of absolute gain or self-preservation, blood ties, master-disciple bonds, or even devoted love became nothing more than a joke.
Even in the womb, an infant fights for its survival, seizing nutrients from its mother; birth itself is a brutal act of plunder.
Xie Jianbai believed that human nature is inherently evil, and he was even more disgusted by a world where the unselfish are punished.
He protected the people, yet he was disappointed in them.
Xie Jianbai could never love; love requires desire, and he had never felt such longing.
Moreover, he would never allow anyone to drag him into the mire of mortal attachments.
As he prepared to leave, Yu Chengyan struggled on the ground.
“Xie Jianbai! What are you planning? Are you going to kill an innocent person?” Yu Chengyan’s voice was hoarse. “She has committed no crime! On what grounds would you act against her? If there is any guilt, it lies with you. Without your consent, who in this world could even approach you?!”
If these words had been spoken to others, they might have been useless.
The cultivation world is one of survival of the fittest; even if the weak are innocent, for the strong, killing someone is like crushing an ant—no special reason is required.
Yet Xie Jianbai paused.
He turned his face, eyes cold as he stared at the youth.
Yu Chengyan’s rapid heartbeat finally slowed slightly. He exhaled, exhausted, and said, “Our intentions don’t really conflict. You don’t want a relationship with us, and I don’t wish for you to be with my mother. Isn’t that fine? We live our lives separately; you continue as the supreme Celestial Lord, and my mother and I live on our own.”
He lifted his head and spoke softly, “When your fate is truly severed and the future altered, I will no longer exist. None of the things you care about will happen, will they?”
Xie Jianbai returned to stand before Yu Chengyan. He reached out, lifting the young man’s chin, and a cold aura enveloped him once more.
“You don’t wish to live?” Xie Jianbai asked, his voice icy.
Yu Chengyan’s lips twitched; he gave a hoarse laugh. “I haven’t wanted to live for a long time.”
After his mother’s death, the pillar supporting Yu Chengyan’s will to live collapsed.
At first, he awaited Xie Jianbai’s hand, yet the man seemed to have forgotten his past words, showing no intention to act. Yu Chengyan initially did not understand, but later he surmised that perhaps, as the sole evidence of Yu Wei’s existence, Xie Jianbai, despite his hatred, would not strike him.
Later, defying his father’s opposition, he cultivated using the heart demon as a source. Xie Jianbai warned him that although such cultivation was efficient, the heavens would not allow him to live to ascend.
Yu Chengyan then began to look forward to the day of tribulation.
The ascension thunder tribulation was fierce, nearly obliterating his spirit. He gritted his teeth and endured most of it, only to collapse at the final moment.
He thought he would die, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in the Celestial Realm, greeted by a Celestial Lord named Xiao Lang.
Xie Jianbai never appeared, but Yu Chengyan was not surprised; after all, the man had never approved of his cultivation method. Now that he had survived by luck, Xie Jianbai would surely consider his survival dishonorable.
Surviving meant he could only live; he would not commit suicide, for he owed his life to his mother. He devoted himself fully to his duties in the Celestial Realm, even gaining some reputation.
Only he knew that his organs felt perpetually aflame, and longevity had become torment. Yu Chengyan was nearing his limit.
Even knowing that altering the future would cost his life, he had never wavered.
Being held by Xie Jianbai, his eyes glazed, Yu Chengyan allowed a faint curve of a smile.
“You could forego a wife and children, my mother could live, and I could find release,” he murmured softly. “Wouldn’t that be fine, Father?”
Xie Jianbai released him.
“Then as you say,” Xie Jianbai replied coldly, “I will never love, nor will I have offspring.”
“You better mean it,” Yu Chengyan’s lazy, hoarse voice called after him. “Don’t go having a son as big as me again.”
Xie Jianbai ignored it.
He flexed his fingers, and the previously fleeing Sword of Prayer Moon returned with a swoosh, trembling as it came back into his hand before vanishing with him.
Once the icy aura dissipated, Yu Chengyan relaxed, turning to lie on his back and stare blankly at the stars. The emotional turbulence of the evening had left him physically and mentally exhausted.
At that moment, he noticed his jade talisman vibrating; Xie Jianbai had left it by his side.
Yu Chengyan hurriedly picked it up, seeing over ten messages from Yu Wei. Earlier she had scolded him for ending their conversation abruptly, then shifted into narrating how Ning Suyi had forbidden her from snacking all night, forcing her to eat in the dining hall, where even the fish was so bad that the cat would vomit.
Seeing Yu Wei’s trivial complaints softened the young man’s expression.
He thought for a moment, then replied: “I’ll cook for you tomorrow.”
He had initially planned to stay away for three days to avoid Xie Jianbai, but the first day had already exposed his secret; there was no need for hiding now.
Xie Jianbai keeps his promises, and Yu Chengyan no longer feared for Yu Wei’s safety.
Perhaps this was a good thing; after all, Xie Jianbai knew the truth and agreed with his method.
Yu Chengyan sent his reply and gazed at the stars, his eyes gradually empty and distant.
Xie Jianbai returned to Sword Peak. The secluded mountain estate prepared by Xiao Ziyi sat quietly in the night.
He placed the Sword of Prayer Moon on the table. Its blade glimmered faintly in the dark. If it had a spirit, it might now be trembling.
Earlier, in the owner’s grasp, it had resisted, unwilling to harm the youth, fleeing instead.
Such a grave mistake would suffice for a stern master to remelt and reforge it.
Xie Jianbai’s thoughts were turbulent; absentmindedly stroking the sword, he snapped back to notice it trembling slightly, as if seeking his favor.
He recalled the earlier scene.
“You don’t want to harm him?” he asked.
The sword shivered, its spirit’s chaotic thoughts flowing toward its master. Xie Jianbai frowned slightly. The sword had sensed that the youth’s blood shared his lineage, and when the blood touched the blade, it confused the sword, leaving it uncertain of its true master.
The higher the sword’s rank, the greater its spirit. Perhaps it had sensed something from the youth, a future where he would be taught by the young man, and the sword might be passed to him, causing the confusion.
The situation was increasingly absurd.
Xie Jianbai put the sword away, sitting in the dark study, eyes cold.
For a moment, he had considered killing the mother and son, erasing all potential disruptions at their cradle. Yet Yu Chengyan had been right; there was no reason to harm innocents, so he agreed to Yu Chengyan’s approach.
Now, with the disciples’ jade talismans under his control, he could easily monitor the world.
At that moment, a signal returned: the contacts between Yu Chengyan and the young woman he watched closely.
Cooking for her tomorrow…
Xie Jianbai lowered his gaze, fingers resting lightly.
Once Yu Chengyan returned, he would surely increase his vigilance, and Xie Jianbai could first inspect the woman quietly before the young man realized it.
Controlling this power also meant controlling the Xuantian Immortal Sect’s tens of thousands of disciples’ talismans. He could easily learn her identity.
Yu Wei, sixteen, an outer sect disciple.
Discovering he had a son with someone he had yet to meet filled him with an extremely complex mix of emotions.
Xie Jianbai speculated; Yu Chengyan was right—if unwilling, no one could force him. It wasn’t that the woman schemed, but that she had chosen freely.
Thinking of the word “voluntarily,” he felt his murderous intent rising.
Why would he voluntarily bear a child? Xie Jianbai could not find a reasonable explanation.
The probability of a normal immortal conceiving naturally was already minuscule. As a Celestial Lord capable of manipulating heavenly laws, his reproductive ability had been nearly nullified; he could not possibly have children.
He also detested life and never desired descendants.
The only logical explanation would be that he employed a bloodline ritual, intending the child as a vessel in case of future emergencies.
Yet this made no sense. According to the youth, he hated the birth of his own child and wished him dead, all because he favored that woman.
It was utterly absurd.
Unable to reason a logical explanation, the Celestial Lord grew increasingly agitated. Since ascending millennia ago, he had seldom felt such suppressed rage.
He arrived at the outer sect mountain where Yu Wei stayed. Night had fallen, the disciples asleep except for the night guards, and the entire peak was cloaked in silence.
Yet upon arrival, he felt pointless. He had come out of agitation and fear of future loss of control, needing to act for relief.
But the hour was too late; a nocturnal visit to the women’s dorm would be meaningless, rendering his presence foolish.
Xie Jianbai stood by the empty road, silently stewing.
Suddenly, he heard rustling from the dormitory nearby; some small creature leaped over the fence.
It seemed to be a… cat?
No, a cat demon. Judging by its life aura, it was the same one Yu Chengyan had protected on the main peak earlier.
The snow-white little cat moved nimbly under the moonlight, clutching a rolled-up script in its mouth.
Reaching the road, it looked up and saw a figure not far away. Dressed in white, bathed in glowing moonlight, the man’s ethereal and aloof aura was accentuated.
As for his appearance, the little cat couldn’t make it out. Yet his presence carried the most intense and delectable scent it had ever encountered.
With a soft thud, the script fell to the ground.
The little cat stared blankly, saliva almost dripping.